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bibibbon · 3 months

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Loved the idea of dabi having to coach Shig... except I can't see him helping Shig at all...they are frenemies, emphasis on the enemy part.

But jokes aside....this make me think how Izu doesn't fit in any group or in any arc. I know I started this with a silly joke but ...when it comes down to it...Izu is not important, not really. There no connection to him nor an attempt.

Shiga in MVA got an army and the entire arc felt smth fro ANOTHER MANGA. There no mention of Izu. "Oh you wanted people to talk his name in every conversation" not that, I wanted people, the villains in this case, to recognize how powerful Izu is as it seems only the villains give credit to Izu.... but it's like he doesn't exist.

Shiga got an army and does .... nothing!

Shiga got money and does.... Nothing!

What happened to Daika is glossed over. We don't even know if Izu saw what happened in Daika (by tv or internet)

And it's a pattern since day 1. Izu is not allowed to really have connections, to bond with people...to grow.

MHA is a story where the mc is sidelined in his own story for no reason and he still gets blame in the story and fandom.

Hey @mikeellee 👋

I see where you're coming from with the whole Dabi and shigaraki are enemies first and friends second but in a situation where shigaraki is well more developed and actually proves and earns his title as the league of villains leader while utilising the MVA resources I feel like he would help Dabi with his revenge.

Hmm the point you bring up about izuku is interesting for sure. To me him not fitting in or not making genuine connections with other characters feels like an unintentional writing mistakes by horikoshi.

In the earlier parts of the series it's evidently clear that shigaraki was really interested and amused by Izuku. The guy literally had a picture of izuku, watched the sports festival and went to izuku for advice (the mall scene) he also showed interest and regarded Izuku's opinion about why people listen to stain and not him. Before shigaraki got the league Izuku was the closest person he could talk to and that simply disappears after he gets the league which is weird because shigaraki doesn't ever get a proper arc that shows him and the league bonding or becoming close rather he just promises them that he won't take away things they like as long as they work for him. Shigaraki in my opinion also doesn't earn the role of leader in the league neither does he do much to earn their trust which is why his line of caring about the league felt so underwhelming to me.

In the earlier arcs izuku and shigaraki had some built up but that was sidelined and even when shigaraki had resources to conduct research on izuku and maybe even reach out he chose not to. The MVA had a lot of potential and it's a shame that horikoshi doesn't tie izuku into it especially because it's not only shigaraki that's interested in Izuku but also toga. The two of them could of looped and included Izuku and we also seem to forget that izuku strangely has a lot of parallels between the villains just in general!!

In my opinion the whole shigaraki and izuku sharing memories thing was a horrible plot point and was used to rush the build up between shig and izuku which was almost non existent at this point. One of my problems with it is that it really doesn't show much of anything from Izuku so all it did was have Izuku learn about shig and not shig also learning about izuku.

Outside of the league Izuku's relationships in general aren't really any better either in terms of development. Izuku could of had a great relationship with various characters but they were either sidelined, not developed enough or overall horribly built.

A lot of the time Izuku only receives recognition from loved ones when he does something for them as evident in the vigilante arc. Also due to the lack of academia and academic/ filler type arcs in the series there really isn't a huge bond with Izuku and the rest of 1A

#mha critical #bnha critical #mha #hori is a bad writer #horikoshi critical #izuku deserves better #bhna critical #bnha #dabi #shigaraki deserves better #shigaraki tomura #dabi deserves better #wasted potential #thanks for the ask #thank you for the ask #thanks for the ask!

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matthewkniesys · 1 year

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full machine - nico hischier

summary: it was a one night stand. it shouldn't have turned into anything else. but then it became a second night and then a third and eventually it became feelings. but nico couldn't ever have the same feelings right?

a/n: this doesn't fully match with the lyrics cause i wanted to make a happy ending but yeah. all the lyrics are in bold. this is based off the song full machine by gracie abrams, which i highly recommend listening to. this is the third fic in the good riddance fic series. you don't have to read the other fics before this one. i hope you like it.

pairing: nico hischier x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ themes no actual smut though, swearing, drinking, reader making poor decisions and angst with a happy ending

good riddance fic series

Nico wasn’t one for committed relationships. You didn’t think you were either. You just got out of a shitty relationship and you just wanted to have fun. But he was Nico Hischier and you were supposed to just pretend he didn’t make your heartbeat a million miles a minute?

You and Nico hooked up one night at a bar in New Jersey thinking that was all it was gonna be. A one night stand. Emphasis on one night. You knew who he was but you didn’t care. You were just trying to get over a shitty ex and he was trying to get over the devils being knocked out in the second round. It was a match made in heaven and it led to really good sex. You two spent the night together and then said goodbye, not expecting to see each other ever again. Obviously that didn’t happen.

I’m a rollercoaster

You’re a dead end street

You loved going out with friends on a Friday night. It was the best. You kinda hit pause on doing that while you were with your ex but since he’s out of the picture Friday night is back to being yours.

Last Friday, you were really reminded why you love going out so much. The partying, the dancing, the guys. Last week's guy was especially special. And honestly you’ve thought a lot about him since. Which usually doesn’t happen. You leave in the morning and then don’t really dwell on what you did the last night with the mystery guy of the week. But last week's guy wasn’t just anyone. It was Nico Hischier. Captain of the New Jersey Devils.

But whatever. You’re thinking of all this while getting ready to go out this Friday. It doesn’t matter though because tonight it’s just gonna be another guy. You know this isn’t the most healthy way to get over a guy. Partying, drinking and hooking up with a stranger every week but it’s fun. And it helps you forget the shit that your ex put you through.

You and your 3 friends walk into the bar, later that night and head straight to get drinks. While you wait for them you sit at the bar and scope out the room. Your eyes roam over the dance floor and the booths where people are sitting.

Your friend taps your shoulder. You look at her and your eyes follow in the direction her head is nodding. A little gasp falls from your lips when your eyes meet their mark.

“Hey Y/n, isn’t that the guy you hooked up with last week?” Your friend yells over the music.

You blink once, twice not believing your eyes, but yeah sure enough standing there in the flesh is Nico Hischier. And you aren’t even at the same place as last week.

“Um, yeah. It is.”

“You should totally go say hi. Maybe you can have a repeat of last week.” You shouldn’t listen to your friends. The worst possible choice to make is to go over there. You already thought about Nico too much this week. If you spend another night with him you could end up with these complicated feelings that you didn’t want to deal with. He was a dead end street. He would lead to nothing, nothing at all. He didn’t commit to relationships he told you so much last week. Why would he change that for you?

But nonetheless you got up and walked right over to him.

But won’t you stay for a while?

I wish that you’d never leave

You tap him on the shoulder and he turns and looks at you. No recognition sparks in his eyes. That makes you nervous. But at the same time why should he remember you? You fucked last Friday and that was it. He’s probably taken many other girls to his bed in just the last week since you had seen him. They were on the road for a five day stretch.

“Um hey?” Nico says, more as a question than a statement.”Should I know you? Sorry I’m just really bad with names and faces. Do you want me to sign something for you?”

You feel tears sting the back of your eyes. You shouldn’t be feeling like this. He was a one night stand, that’s it. Maybe you just need to get him out of your system. Spend one more night together.

“No, I'm not. We spent last Friday night together, remember?”

He thinks for a moment. “Actually, I do remember. Here let me get you a drink, we’ll see where the night goes.” Nico winks at you, grabbing your hand and leading you to the bar.

The night spirals from there. You end up back at your place and the rest is history. When you wake up the next morning to a heavy arm draped across your stomach you automatically think how you want to wake up like this, with Nico everyday. And that’s when you know you’re fucked. Absolutely, no going back fucked. And that scares the shit out of you.

Realizing you want an anti-relationship, only does one night stands kinda guy is terrifying. You want him to stay. To not get up and leave before you even have breakfast. To not leave ever.

But then ten minutes later Nico wakes up. He’s hastily picking up his clothes off your floor and throwing them on. As he’s about to walk out the door he turns and looks at you. Really studies your face.

Then he says, “Could I maybe grab your number? Maybe we could do this again sometime.”

And after hearing that your heart soars.

I know I know better

You're no guarantee

That joy is short-lived. And you knew better than to get your hopes up. There’s no guarantee Nico was ever actually gonna use your number, but you really couldn’t help it.

You didn’t hear from Nico for the next week. You chalked it up to him being on a road trip. A road trip that went horribly. They played five games and lost five games.

Late on the following Monday night you got a text from Nico saying, hey just got back from the road trip, can I come over? I need to let off some steam.

And even though you know better and you know that this is a bad idea, you say yes.

And for the next few weeks, you and Nico fall into some kind of routine. He texts you, asking to come over and you say yes. You fuck and sometimes he stays to eat or watch a movie and sometimes he goes straight home. And those times hurt. When he comes over and then leaves directly once you’re done having sex. It feels like he’s just using you but still everytime he asks you say yes.

But if you asked me to run away

I’d go easily

It’s always him who asks to see you and it’s always on his time. You know it’s not right but what can you do? It feels like you need to see him almost as much as you need to breathe air. At this point you feel like you would do anything he asks. He could ask you to drop everything and run away and you’d go easily.

I almost lost it

I’ll heal eventually

On and off, never knowing what to expect, hooking up with Nico begins to take a toll on you. He would call you, come over almost daily for a week and build you up. Then he’d be MIA for the next 2 weeks and you’d completely fall apart.

It was a constant emotional roller coaster and it was getting to a point where you couldn’t do it anymore. But at the same time you needed it. He’d build you up so high and then just let you fall right off the cliff he put you on and then he’d bring you right back up. It was such a toxic cycle but one you just couldn’t break. Because when he made you feel good and happy you were so happy but when he made you sad it felt like your whole heart was shattering. You’re teetering dangerously close to the edge. So close that you could lose it at any moment. You’re hurting really badly.

That being said, you know that even though you’re struggling right now, you’re gonna be okay. You firmly believe that you’ll get better, whether or not it’s with Nico.

But faster if you’re next to me

Next to me

You really hope it is. You really, really hope it’s Nico next to you. You’ll heal faster. If only he could just love you unconditionally. You would love him back as much as you possibly could. You already do. You give and give and give so much to him and he takes and takes and takes from you.

I'm codependent

But trying hard not to be

I'm better when you're next to me

You know you get attached really easily. When you find someone you genuinely love, you grab on and don’t let go. And with Nico you really did try hard not to get too attached. Too bad it didn’t work.

Nico makes you your best self. You’re better when he’s there. You feel the happiest and most confident when you’re around him. You always want him to be around.

I’m a shameless caller

You’re a full machine

But won’t you answer tonight

And say something nice to me

And then Nico doesn’t call for 2 weeks. You can’t even blame it on a road trip since they were on a homestand that whole time. You don’t know what to do. You’ve never been the first one to call and that makes you anxious, but then again this whole situation is making you anxious. You think on it for a moment then you pick up the phone.

It rings and rings and rings. No answer. The beep sounds to leave a message and you start speaking.

“Um hey Nico, it’s Y/n. I just wanted to say hi. We haven’t seen each other in a little while and I was just wondering how you’re doing? Yeah, uh I guess that’s it. Call me back if you have the chance.”

And from there it doesn’t stop. Weeks still go by and you can’t stop calling. Over and over again. Call after call, but one thing stays the same. Nico never answers and he never calls you back after any of your messages.

Every time you call you hope for a different outcome. For him to answer, for him to say something sweet to you like he used to. You need the validation that he used to give you. All you want is for him to pick up and just say something nice to you.

And you don’t have to mean it

You can lie to me

But if you asked me to run away

I’d go easily

It’s been a month of not hearing from Nico. And it’s been hard. You miss him and your heart aches. You want him to come back to you. Why can’t he just answer the phone? Even if he wants to cut it off, why can’t he just tell you straight up? Why can’t he give you the closure you deserve?

He’s putting you through a world of hurt right now. You feel so low and you’re constantly tired. The way he treats you is so toxic but still you can’t help but love him. He could ask anything of you and you would probably do it.

Even after all this time and all this time and hurt you’d still run away with him in a heartbeat.

But do you think we could talk?

‘Cause I’ve been trying to tell you

How you’re the one that I turn to

This past few months Nico’s put you through too much shit. And now you’re kinda over it. Even if Nico never had the same feelings as you, you deserve to know why one day he suddenly just stopped calling. And if you’re never gonna see him again you want to tell him your real feelings for him. Though he’s probably been able to guess from your nonstop calling.

You sit in your parked car outside Nico’s house for a good half an hour before getting out. You’re nervous. This might be the last time you get to see Nico. And though you wish you were over him you aren’t. And you probably won’t be for a while. You might as well get it over with. You get out of your car and make your way up to Nico’s apartment.

You pause outside his door. Are you really doing this? Is no closure maybe better? No it’s not, you reassure yourself. You have to do this so you can start healing and letting go.

You knock once, and then wait. Suddenly the door opens in your face. You're greeted by Nico. He looks at you with an expression of sadness laced with what might be longing on his face. But that doesn’t make sense. He hates you. Doesn’t he?

“Nico, you’ve been avoiding my calls but we need to talk now. You can’t just leave me in the dark. If you wanted to break things off you could’ve told me, called me, sent a fucking text. It’s not that hard. I fell for you and I love you and it felt like you abandoned me. I understand that you don’t reciprocate my feelings but the way you left wasn’t okay. I just-,”

Nico cuts you off, “Y/n, that’s the exact problem. The problem is that I do reciprocate your feelings. I fucking love you and I’m so scared. I hate relationships. I’ve been hurt one too many times. I didn’t know what to do.” Nico runs a hand over his face and lets out a long sigh.

“I’ve never met anyone like you and when I started feeling more than attraction towards you, I ran. I thought if I distanced myself I could forget about you but I could never. You are the most memorable person to ever enter my life, y/n. You’re so bright and colorful and everyone loves you. I know the way I acted was wrong and how I chose to pursue this was bad but I’m ready to try. You know why? Because I’m never gonna find someone else like you. Every night I stayed up waiting to hear my phone ring with your caller id. I was so scared that at night you were gonna just forget about me and stop calling. And if you think for one second that it was easy to not pick up every single one of your calls you’d be so wrong. I love you, y/n. And I know I have a lot to work on and I know the way I treated you wasn’t okay but please, can we work on it together? I want you to be by my side. I want to try with you. For you.”

Tears prick your eyes and threaten to spill. No one has ever said anything like that to you before.

You look Nico in the eye, “Okay.”

“Okay what? Y/n, please say yes. I need you.”

“Okay, I’ll try with you. I’m not perfect either but we can work on our shit together. And yeah, you fucked me over but now I know you were hurting too. This whole time, all of those calls, I’ve been trying to tell you how you’re the one that I turn to.”

thanks for reading🫶

taglist: @woodruff-edwards @nicohischierz @makarhughes @cobrakaisb @huggy-hischier94 @boldysswld@cole-mcward48@kashee-h@kjohnson-91 @jackhues @corneliaskates

join my taglist

#nico hischier #nico hischier x reader #new jersey devils #jack hughes #nhl fic #nhl imagine #claire tries writing <3 #claires good riddance fic series

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cactusnymph · 10 months

Note

I don't have a specific prompt in mind, but could you write some t4t wyll x karlach? With any prompt that strikes your fancy

Wyll still hasn't gotten used to this new body. Karlach can still see him struggling to get a shirt over his head with the new horns, to get stuck in tight spaces or feel a ridge on his brown skin over and over again to make sure that it's supposed to be there and not something to worry about.

To an extend Karlach understands feeling like a stranger in your own body, but she had a lifetime to get used to hers, while Wyll's was changed in an instant without his consent. It's a horrifying thought to have this body that she made a home in be changed against her will like that, because she spent an entire childhood feeling like it was lacking something until she finally figured out what it was.

The infernal engine was bad enough, but it didn't change the way she looks by much, except for the constant glow in her chest. Aside from the foreign piece of machinery inside of her, Karlach likes this body. Likes all the scars she collected, likes the muscles and the fiery red skin, the shape of her eyes, her crooked index finger.

If Zariel had taken her tits, Karlach would have killed her long ago. She worked very hard to get those and she won't give them back.

Whenever she catches Wyll eying his own reflection, Karlach wants to step up to him and tell him that he's beautiful just the way he is, and that his heart hasn't changed and that he's still the most noble man Karlach has ever met. But she also knows that it doesn't work like that. You only get one body, one home for your soul to live in for the extent of your life.

Having that home violated like this, changed beyond recognition... She understands how much it hurts.

Next time she finds him gazing at a mirror Wyll's finger wanders along the contour of his ear as if he's trying to memorize the new shape of it.

"Hey soldier", she says with a smile and sits down next to him, her arm brushing against his. It's still a rush, to be able to touch people like this.

Wyll turns his head to smile at her. A flash of embarrassment crosses over his face because she caught him with the mirror but Karlach doesn't think there's anything to be ashamed of.

"Penny for your thoughts", Karlach says, grabbing the mirror from Wyll and holding out further away so they can both see parts of their faces in it. Sometimes she thinks that they were made for each other in more sense than one. Monster and monster hunter, both trying to do good, soldiers who can't return home, their bodies changed in a way that they wanted and then violated against their will, changed beyond recognition.

"I was thinking if maybe there's something I can do. To make myself feel more... at peace. With this body that I have now. When I was younger I did my best as much as possible. Bandaging my chest, shaving off my hair, wearing pants instead of frilly dresses. This is... different. Similar but different. I don't know if I'm making much sense."

Karlach understands. The two of them have the very same scars on their chest for the exact opposite reason. When she's feeling really mushy inside it makes her cry a little bit how well they fit. And when she's feeling particularly horny she wishes she could make them fit together in even more ways than this.

"I get it", she says, raising her hand to follow the path of his finger from before, gently touching the shell of his ear. Wyll shivers a little and she can see goosebumps erupt on his forearms. Gods, she wants him. She wants him so much. "If you want we could try to do some stuff to make it feel more like yours."

Wyll blinks and looks at her.

"How do you mean?"

Karlach shrugs.

"It's really silly, right, but. Uh. When I got this engine", she bangs on her chest twice for emphasis, "I was really desperate to reclaim my body somehow so I like. Got a tattoo. Got some piercings. Tried to make this house a home again, you know?"

She holds out her arm to show Wyll the tattoo of an anatomically correct heart on her upper arm.

"It's so on the nose but... I don't know. I just wanted something that was mine and that I decided to do with my body", she explains, shrugging her shoulders before putting down the mirror. Wyll's finger touches one of her many piercings she has in her right ear. Karlach tries not to sigh.

"You think I should try one of these?", he asks with a lopsided smile.

"Dunno if that would work for you. It did for me. Guess it's worth a try, right?", she says.

"Where do you think I should put it?", he asks, turning around to face her fully now, his face open and curious and his voice soft. Sharing these thoughts and feelings with someone means the world to Karlach. Every day she's thankful that it was Wyll who chased her through the Hells and that she got to meet him through all of this insanity.

"Well. You're such a handsome bugger, I think you could rock any piercing, really", Karlach says earnestly, watching full of delight how Wyll ducks his head because of her compliment. "But maybe we could start small and just give you an earring. To see if you like it. And if you think it works we can always make that mouth of yours even more kissable and put a ring through it."

Wyll huffs and she watches as he swallows, maybe because he's thinking about kissing her with a ring through his lip or maybe just about kissing her in general.

Karlach stretches out both hands and puts them on Wyll's chest, right where the two fine scars are on his chest.

"I know it sucks, but you still have this. We both do", she says quietly. Wyll hesitates before he mirrors the gesture, putting his hands just below Karlach's boobs. She feels absolutely normal about it and it doesn't do things to her at all. Nope. She's so, so strong.

"Imagine Mizora would have summoned my breasts back... I would have had to kill her after all", Wyll jokes and Karlach snorts a laugh.

"Devils suck but at least they're gender affirmation dickheads", Karlach says and bangs on her infernal engine again. Wyll touches his ear again.

"Do you want to do this?", he asks, his eyes shining.

"Fuck yeah. Let me get a needle from Fangs. Maybe we can get matching ones!"

Wyll looks at her so fondly, it makes her engine burn hotter.

"I would like that."

feel free to send me more of these<3

#bg3 fic #karlach cliffgate #wyll ravengard #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #bg3 #mi writes #wyllach #wyll x karlach #i was almost ready to turn this into the softest fluffiest gender affirming smut........#thank you so much for the prompt i love these two to pieces ;-;

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pumpkinstrawbrew · 6 months

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Hey! I'm sooooo happy to finally find another person that ships Scarecrow and Batman! This is ship is so underrated and it deserves MUCH more recognition 👏☺️ Also, I love your art and analysis of these characters!

I don't know if you've answered this before, but what do you think about the Arkhamverse version of them? I would prefer Arkham Knight, but if you feel uncomfortable with it, Arkham Asylum is fine (I love both). I don't know what to think of it at the moment and I'm trying to form an opinion!

I hope you have an amazing day!! ❤️❤️

Can I be 🐓 anon if you allow anons?

hello there!! i’m also happy to meet another fellow-minded scarebat believer out there! scarebat is just such a fascinating ship. i’m honestly go uwu when i see other people enjoying it too! this pair indeed deserve more recognition an’ love! an’ aw, heck, thank you! it makes me blush knowing that someone can have fun with those lil, whimsical things i do!

an’ oh, nope. i didn’t answer this one! arkhamverse’s content is smth that i see circulating around a lot, but i didn’t see much content for that version of scarebat. i guess, the constant choking, an’ ‘get on your knees now, crane’ wasn’t enough to awaken smth in anyone *besides me an’ 2-3 other fine wine enjoyers*. which is once again too bad, bc even design wise, they’re kinda a banger in their own right. whichever version we take, it’s just a good contrast between batman’s heavy armour an’ jon’s typical rags *with some cyber-punk touch later on*. like, while i’m a simple gal who tends to simp for ‘classic’ outlooks, i do appreciate what the game did. gotta love crane’s freddy krueger syringe glove, an’ how he got it embedded into bruce’s neck an’ chest, an’ then got stabbed with it himself lol. there is a lot of homoerotic stuff, which can be done with it! esp bc it’s such a close range weapon, an’ each version of akrham’s crane used it differently. in arkham asylum, he injected the poison into bruce’s arm. the desperate, angry action kinda reminded me of a pissy, bristling animal, that would bite your hand, when if you try to grab it. in the next game, jon was way more vicious, less of a thrashing opossum that you find in your garage an’ more of a snake, that you accidentally step on, while you climbing down your porch. the vast difference between his mental states then an’ later on is an interesting theme for speculations. esp bc bruce is also worse to wear in the next game. in fact, i’d say that arkham knight sorta depicts them at their subjective ‘worst’ almost. an’ it says smth, bc i don’t think that either of them are ever in good mental place.

i kinda find it interesting how some people would assume, that if person acts cold an’ detached, it means that they’re ‘in control’, when sometimes, it’s the opposite. in bruce’s case for sure. but i’d like this for some versions of crane as well, bc it suits his psychotype as well. not to mention, that jon’s hygiene in arkham knight is at its lowest too, which says a few things about his mental state right off the bat. or how he didn’t seem to properly treat his own wounds, just instantly throwing himself into his biggest scheme. a man truly possessed by revenge.

but welp, if we go into specifics of each separate version of arkhamverse, i guess, i will start with arkham asylum! my memories about those games are a bit rusty, but i’ll go with what i remember. providing more emphasis on arkham knight, since they do have more going on an’ you seem more interested in that specific version too!

still, first things first, i love how jonathan was half-naked during the first game lol. it’s just so funny to me, bc he is usually covered from head to toe, but in there, he was shirtless, wearing pants that held for dear life on those skinny hips an’ i’ll bet dude had nothing underneath them either. he’s never was the most proper person, admittingly, but idk, running around the dirty asylum an’ hunting your enemy while showing off your nips an’ stomach is…smth else. esp for a prude like crane. but i guess, at that point of time, he seemed to be so deranged, that his usual body issues no longer worried him. besides, poison ivy walked around in her underwear an’ blouse that was held together by one durable button, why can’t he do the same? it’s not like batman would comment on it, even if he wanted to. but like, honestly, all the hints of possible spooky + sexy times were there, so it’s a shocker, that no one has done anything about it yet. i mean, you literally have jonathan, who was flashing the bat for 20 minutes straight, an’ it’s not smth that the majority of cranes would ever have the guts to do in any other set-up. btas an’ comicverse ones would downright combust, before they’d be walking around batman shirtless. but not that gremlin. he was all about it. even if i do think, that he wasn't fully aware about what it means, an’ that it’s kinda embarrassing to do smth like that, while you are trying to be intimidating. he’s not bane. it’s not like he has some crazy muscular mass to show off. but it is very stimulating to think about the ways it all can be used in. the cold bat’s armour to exposed skin of a spooky toothpick. batman grips scarecrow’s clothes, when they fight. in there, it’ll be almost all naked skin. that’s a sexy imagery to have!

as for the substance of the arkham asylum on itself, i don’t think that scarecrow was in there a lot. but then again, maybe i just remember it this way. it is however curious how fast crane goes from campy looney to more serious, jarred person, we see in the next game. an’ his whole motivation shifts from ‘you’re just like us and have fears’ to ‘there is no saviour. no hope’. almost like he was very, very let down, when batman failed to save him that one time lol. but considering that arkhamverse kept jonathan’s comic origin, it’s safe to assume that yeah, he took that very-very personally. he isn’t the joker, who kinda never brings up how many times, batman casually let him ‘die’. the btas alone has like 3 occasions like that lmao. meanwhile, jon went into a scornful cold rage, after just one epic fail, which, at the end of the day, is very him lol. the drugged up bat didn’t save him, that’s it. no one’s supremacy, fuck gotham. an’ i’m only partly jeering here.

which leads us straight to to arkham knight version, an’ to bruce instantly going up there an’ choking the living hell out of jon, the second he sees him. what a reunion! esp with that whole head hitting an’ throwing crane onto floor, like a ragdoll. batman just had to assert his dominance, even when jonathan barely opened his mouth. *bc yeah, you stay down, bottom*. i like how crane tried his hardest to be serious an’ imposing during that whole deal, but the bat just wasn't super amused. yet, like usual, he did give the scarecrow room to speak later on. allowing him to walk around him. an’ boy, gotta appreciate that ‘bad guy's sly hips play’ as scarecrow circled the bat. it was quite a vision. even with fucked up leg, he managed to pull that off. i wish there were more moments like this. they had a lot of potential for more brutal scarebat interactions, than some other versions of them. all the cues for it were there. batman was hallucinating a ghost of a dead clown, who wouldn’t shut up about whatever, an’ jonathan was all about his ‘end goal’, not caring what he had to do to get to it. what an explosive combo. i was low-key surprised, that bruce didn’t wipe the floor with crane just out of pure frustration, an’ then some. an’ considering how fucked up they both are in that version, it wouldn’t put it past the ghost!joker to suggest they’d do smth else with crane, if batman is unwilling to kill him. there is actually a lot of leeway, with bruce blaming some stuff on his personal brain damage, while joker just keeps on pouring gasoline into the fire. i even had this one idea about the joker playing a horrible matchmaker just to make everyone even more miserable, but mostly just bruce. all while not expecting crane to be able to return the sentiment in his own messed up manner.

an’ speaking of sentiment, i do think that it can be here as well. it’ll be buried under layers an’ layers of pseudo-resentment, but that’s like typical scarebat. no one ever talk about their real emotions in that ship lol. well, not in a normal way. in arkham knight, i suppose the joker can be a narrator of bruce an’ crane’s relationships. not missing a beat to tell them *well, bruce* how much they suck. an’ he won’t even be wrong, batman abandoning some of his duties, bc well, this. an’ crane as per usual getting confused by feelings, that isn’t hatred or fear. they can enter those intense relationships with the worst kind of miscommunication. bc they awful at it, when they’re not super unstable *or at least one of them isn’t*, an’ now they can be godawful at it, bc batman is close to breaking point, an’ jonathan is at his bitterests an’ pettiest. crane also can assume, that he can ‘unmade’ the bat this way, all while messing up his own scheme in the process. with god’s help, they might even survive this. idk about gotham tho lol. the joker being a third wheel an’ technically a cuck in that situation just adds how messed up it all is. but maybe with jon’s ‘help’, they can deal with that problem too. i don’t think, crane would like to share in any way. i mean, he would have been pissed off, if he learned that batman had a mini-devil on his shoulder the whole time. in a way, it kinda defeats the purpose of it all. it would almost like taking all the credit from him, an’ he won’t stand for it. crane combating bruce’s personal ghosts for his own selfish, possessive needs is smth, i would have liked to see for them. jonathan accidently being a good psychiatrist to bruce is my peak scarebat dark comedy. similar to how in ‘kings of fear’, it was basically ‘i can fix him, but bitch, you’re worse’ kind of deal too. in return, bruce can try an’ help crane actually put some proper garnet for his leg on, an’ look a bit less like a sickly *even if scary-spooky-cool* animal. they can find some middle ground, even if for questionable reasons, or they can have that slow-burn from enemies to lovers thing too. heck, i mean, it’s a wonder how come that scarecrow didn’t kidnap bruce first to try an’ break him a tad more, before making gotham see ‘that they had no hope’ an’ all that.

on less game plot related notes, i do like to play around with what can be done about jon’s state in arkham knight. like his face being all messed up, half of his body moving way more stiffly, there are a lot of things that can be done with it. an’ the parallel of batman being crippled on the inside an’ crane being pretty much this an’ then also damaged outside of it….mmm, that’s just good. also we all know that nolanverse crane moaned ‘batman’ like a whore while his hair were pulled, but what about arkham knight’s scarecrow lil gay gasps an’ whimpers, when bruce held him by the throat an’ injected him with his own toxin? if gordon an’ jason weren’t there, i wonder what might have happened lol. love scarecrow’s scared expressions in that game btw, somehow they still manage to make him look cute.

an’ now for a bit of nitpicky bit. when i look back at arkham knight, like some other folks, i do wish there was less…joker in it. he did add some fun elements there or here, but he should have been a background segment tbh. i really wanted to see more of mindbending stuff similar to level in arkham asylum. batman ‘given into’ hallucination joker’s cheers to kill crane, even if it was all a mindfuck bit was tasteless for me. if they wanna make bruce kinda walk that route, i’d rather see him doing it by his own misgivings an’ rage. tho, i do give credit where it’s duo, crane saying ‘you’ve changed’ an’ not sounding esp thrilled about it was curious smth.

but omg, that’s got long, haha. hope, it’s not too troublesome. i’m kinda chatty an’ rambly kind of person, esp when i talk about things i love. can’t talk short in most cases.

thank you for the ask btw! i do enjoy talking about scarebat a lot, no matter what version. an’ i hope, that your day is going great as well! i do apologise for how late some of my responses are coming through. i tend to pick at questions for a couple of days or so, just to make sure that i kinda give it my utmost thoughts, haha. hopefully, my answer helped you to form your own vision on the matter better or gave you an idea how different / similar you see smth, when it comes to those two.

an’ sure thing! that’s a cute symbole btw!

#❓#batcrow #arkhamverse

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my-mt-heart · 6 months

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Hi MT. I was disappointed enough with everything that AMC is doing and everyone involved in making these decisions. but I see that besides trying to give crumbs to us, they've made a very big anti-caryl fandom. сaryl was artificially reduced to zero and they started to promote other ships and a lot of time has passed. so they won't anger them. I've already kind of accepted that caryl won't be romantic. Carol was supposed to get a spinoff with someone else…Lydia? I'm tired of her sacrificing everything…and then they just pat her on the shoulder and don't give her anything in return.

The shipbaiting, the special emphasis on Caryl's "friendship" as if it can't possibly be more than that, and the lack of recognition for Carol all gives antis ammo to stick around to bully Melissa, Carol, and her fans. AMC doesn't need their viewership for the Caryl show to be a hit. They should be focusing on the Caryl audience, the ones who are still here as well as the ones who left. They would all be guaranteed to watch if the show delivered what they wanted (Caryl at the heart of the story, deepening their bond, explicit canon), but some of the EPs and execs at AMC are too misogynistic and ageist to grasp that. They think Daryl needs to be "a man's man" and attract every woman who breathes near him except for a woman his own age with gray hair.

For me, TBOC is their only chance to do right by Caryl. If they can't (or refuse to), then I can't watch a show that invalidates the most earned ship on TWD, disregards what the leading lady has to say about it, and gaslights the fans who want it all because a bunch of problematic men want to gatekeep. They aren't going to be able to grow their audience by trying to appeal to every faction under the sun. That's just going to make every faction under the sun unhappy. They can't draw in the dudebros because that's not Daryl's or Carol's or Caryl's built-in audience. They can't rely on the antis because they don't actually care about Daryl or whoever he's shipbaited with enough to invest long-term.

Caryl is it.

#caryl #carol peletier #melissa mcbride #daryl dixon #norman reedus #the book of carol #twd caryl

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sunshine-in-a-bottle · 2 years

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AWESAMDRUNZ SMUT, FINALLY FUCKING FINISHED.

HERE'S THE AO3.

HAVE IT ALSO UNDER THE CUT.

Sam let his fingers run up Dream's side, reveling in the shivers it elicited. His other hand was already on Dream’s cock, strokes he only half paid attention to in favor of the expressions on Dream’s face. He always liked to hide, Sam noticed. From their first exchange in prison to this thing they had now, Dream would attempt to keep himself composed, even when he was a half stroke away from his peak. It made each encounter a struggle to break the willful behavior Dream exuded. The task was exhausting, but rewarding in its own way.

Punz was not making it any easier.

"You're doing so well, Dream. Pretty noises; let me hear them." Punz cooed, an arm wrapped firmly around Dreams waist as they played with his nipple. Dream bit his lip to stifle his moan, brow furrowed in concentration as he tried to hide the pleasure he was obviously feeling. It made Sam's lips curl downward; Dream shouldn't be hiding. Not from him.

It was easy enough to correct. Sam turned Dream's head towards him, tapping his fingers against his mouth. Recognition appeared in Dream's eyes, and he obediently parted his lips to allow the digits. Immediately, the moans became audible.

"The fuck are you doing?" Punz hissed at him. Sam gave them a challenging look and began to thrust his fingers inward. Satisfaction curled in his gut as Dream looked to him for directions.

"You wanted to hear him, moan. I'm letting you hear him." He said. Automatically he began to thrust deeper to hear him choke, but Punz seized his wrist.

"Not like that," they said dangerously, squeezing his wrist hard enough to break. "If he wants me to hear him, he'll do it himself."

They released Sam just enough for him to pull his hand back before tilting Dream's head back to face them. Immediately their lips clashed, a rough slide that caused a whine from Dream's throat and a moan from Punz's. Their hand slid up to play with the hairs on the back of his neck and trace his jaw. As Dream began to push more eagerly into the kiss, Punz opened an eye to stare Sam down.

It was an obvious taunt. You can't have him like I can.

Sam dug his nails into the desk.

Kissing Dream was off limits. Punz had made that very clear after the first time, when a fucked out Dream had lain pliant in Sam's arms, eyes wide and asking for what had been a rare treat back when it was just the two of them. It was meant to reward him for being good, for listening to Sam, and Dream had been good for him. So he indulged. The soft noise of delight had drawn Punz's attention quickly, and the snarl had left the mercenary looking more wild than human.

"You don't get to have him like that."

It had been a threat and a promise. Each session after, Punz had taken to claiming Dream's mouth, leaving it bruised and red and out of Sam's reach. The knife on their hip glinted ominously as he seethed. The consequences for kissing would be the same as the ones where he left marks: an instant stab to the gut.

It wasn't fair having to watch Punz's sink his teeth into a neck Sam could once claim freely, but Punz didn't seem to give a damn about fairness when it came to him.

Suddenly furious, Sam began to pick up his loose strokes, tugging Dream's cock harshly and digging his thumb into the head. Dream broke away from Punz's mouth ( good , Sam thought) to throw back his head with a cry, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. His cock began to leak slowly onto the table.

Punz cursed as Dream began to tremble in their arms, attempting to pull Dream away from Sam's hold. "Stop, you're going too fast for him, he doesn't like it."

"Yes he does," Sam argued, tugging once more for emphasis. Dream bucked his hips in response. "He's cum like this before. Didn’t you, Dream? Didn't you do well? I remember how good you were."

A sob of pleasure was his answer. The facade finally broke as tears slipped down Dream's cheeks, and the sight was so entrancing that Sam nearly failed to dodge the knife aimed for his chest.

"What did I say?" Punz growled. It echoed throughout the lobby. Their eyes were icy pinpricks, but when they replaced Sam's hand with their own the tenderness in each careful brush of the fingers was clear.

"You have to take your time with him." Punz murmured as they fondled him lightly. "He needs a little coaxing to get in the right headspace. You don't want him to drop like that."

Sam gripped Dream's thighs, rubbing up and down. He wasn't... entirely sure what they meant, but the results were obvious: Tears still streamed down Dream's face, but the sobbing was absent in favor of nearly silent pants. Dream fell into Punz's chest, eyes cloudy.

"Punz?" Dream asked tiredly. Punz pressed a quick kiss to his temple.

"Yeah, Dream. I'm here, I've got you. Can you tell me how you're doing?"

"It feels good," He slurred, whimpering as Punz gave a particularly firm upstroke. "More? Please? Just a little. I'll be good."

"I know you will be," Punz soothed. They stopped to turn his body, hushing his protests. "You're always good for me."

Sam clenched his fists as he was forced to let go and watch Dream be manhandled into laying on his back. It gave him access to Dream's lips again, but they were spit slicked, a sour reminder. No kissing. Sam settled with caressing his cheek. Dream leaned into his touch. He looked up when Sam didn't move, and made a questioning sound. Something oddly fond bloomed in his chest.

"Good boy." He murmured. Dream gave a happy hum.

Punz scoffed from their place across the table, but said nothing as they began the work to prep Dream. Dream arched into Sam's touch, displaying his neck for Sam's perusal. Rows of teeth were indented into the scarred flesh, and Sam couldn't help but cover them with his fingers, gripping Dream's neck until he was breathless.

He only had a second of Dream's blissful expression before a knife found its way into his shoulder.

"Get your hands off of him!" Punz practically shrieked with fury. " You're hurting him."

Sam winced as he pulled the knife out of his shoulder, summoning a health pot to fix it. He made to snarl back, but Dream had stilled beneath them.

"Punz. It's okay." He said quietly. "I liked it."

Punz stopped, hands paused from where they had been prepared to summon more knives to meet Dream's eyes. Dream stared back at them, tilting his head. They seemed to communicate silently for a few moments, before Punz shook themselves.

"Just. Don't do it so suddenly." He muttered harshly, and went back to opening Dream up. Sam felt a surge of triumph.

"What a good boy, telling us what he likes." He cooed smugly, taking hold of Dream's neck again. He made sure each and every one of Punz's marks was covered by his hand as he lightly squeezed, watching the pleasure build in Dream's eyes. Idly, Sam felt for Dream's pulse. It fluttered like a hummingbird beneath his fingers, desperate and yearning for air. With one last squeeze, he released, leaving Dream to gasp and stutter out his pleasure. Sweet honey satisfaction soothed at Sam's mind as wide eyes focused wholly on him, and he couldn't help but bend down to nuzzle his face, fur brushing against scarred cheeks to mark him. His prisoner. His.

Suddenly, Dream shuddered beneath him, keening loudly and turning his face away. Sam startled back to find Punz smirking at him, pointed and smug.

"That's it," He said, brushing his fingers against Dream's prostate just to hear him keen again. "Keep making those pretty sounds."

Dream sobbed as Punz pressed another finger into him, thrashing as if he couldn't decide whether he wanted to get away or sink deeper into the pleasure offered. Sam watched the subtle turns in expression, fascinated. They were different from way back before, when it was just them. Dream was loose in a way not usually shown to him, softer than silk, easy and sweet. It was strangely enthralling.

Two taps to Dream's thigh got his attention. Punz worked to turn him over on his stomach, and Sam reluctantly helped, hissing when Punz pulled Dream closer by the hips (away from Sam, always away.)

Punz ignored the creeper's warning smoke, instead choosing to slick himself up with a groan that was quickly cut off.

"You okay with this?" He asked Dream roughly, tangling their fingers together and tapping thrice. He received a low hum in reply, fingers tapping four times in return.

"Please." Dream begged, leaving Sam breathless as he rutted against the desk in a desperate attempt for friction. It was enough to make him lean against the wood, palming himself in a struggle not to jerk into his own release.

"I have you," Punz murmured, and began to push in, achingly gentle.

After a few moments, Dream stilled, eyes tight and tense. Sam released himself and looked up to see Punz running his hands up and down Dream's thighs in an attempt to comfort, even with just the head inside.

"You doing good for me?" He asked softly, searching for any signs he should stop. Dream exhaled.

"Yes."

"Good." Punz smiled, and Sam could feel the way Dream shuddered as Punz slid their cock fully inside him. It was so slow, slower than Sam would have preferred and slower than he knew Dream could take, but a bitten off keen and the shallow gouges making their way into the desk informed him that Dream still appreciated it, very much so.

"There we go."

Sam swallowed. Punz's hips were flush against Dream’s ass, something he knew from experience felt heavenly when Dream clenched down. Dream's head fell forward against the desk. Punz immediately reached out to him, but Dream turned so his cheek pillowed against the wood, exposing his blissed out expression. He rolled his hips intently into Punz's until they were moaning from the force.

"Punz," Dream said. His fingers continued to bite into the desk. He repeated himself, brokenly. "Punz."

"Yeah?" Punz gasped out. His hands gripped Dream hard enough to bruise, and Sam let his own hands rest flat against the desk in a loose cage of Dream's upper body.

"Need more."

And Punz never denied him. There were no drawn out demands when they began to thrust, hard and quick. Making Dream beg didn't seem to be once on their mind when his mouth fell open in near silent pants. They cooed like they could hear his sweet noises regardless, praising him for taking everything they had to give and looking good while he did it.

And Sam…. He looked at the way Dream flushed at every compliment. The way Dreams tongue sat on his bottom lip, and the way he arched when Punzs grinded against the spot deep inside him. Dream's eyes flicked up to meet his own before turning away, but Sam cupped his face to bring him back, to see those cheeks turn pink and to thumb away the tear tracks. Heat ignited in his core when their eyes finally met.

(He was so pretty.)

"Look at you," Sam murmured. Dream removed his nails from the desk. "Taking cock like you were made for it."

Dream whined. Goosebumps trailed up Sam's arms as Dream reached up to grip them. Like he wanted to keep them there.

"I still need to come, Dream." Sam reminded him, pulling away before unbuckling his belt and pulling out his aching cock. It brushed feather-light at Dream's lips, staining them with precum.

His breath caught as Dream's tongue peeked out to lick it away. Suddenly the other man in the room fucking his prisoner was irrelevant, practically unnoticeable. Nothing was more important than getting that tongue on his cock again, to occupy Dream's mouth and all of his thoughts.

It wasn't hard to convince Dream to open his mouth for him. Punz's icy stare was thoroughly ignored as Sam pushed the head a little more insistently against his lips. Dream took it easily, glancing at Sam for confirmation that he was doing it right even while he hollowed out his cheeks and moved with practiced expertise. He knew by now what Sam liked.

He tried to move back a bit, maybe to tease the head, or to pause for a moment, but his position on the desk prevented him from pulling away, and Sam took advantage of it to grip his neck and sink his cock deeper . Dream's throat was impossibly tight; the vibrations from his deep chested moan making it impossible for Sam not to cry out. He fought the urge to tangle his fingers into Dreams' hair. He wanted to choke him on his cock, hold him there until Dream was seeing stars, but the knife across from him gave an ominous shimmer and reminded Sam that Punz was still watching. He wouldn't understand how easy it could be to tune Dream into a beautiful instrument of pleasure. So instead Sam focused on the more important things: the way the back of Dream's throat felt, the way he used his tongue and his hands, scarred and rough and perfect as they attempted to grip the meat of his thigh.

His peak was approaching faster than he realized. The coil of heat in his gut winded tighter and tighter with each roll of his hips, but he still needed something before he could let go.

"Dream." He gasped. "Look at me."

Once again, Dream focused on him. Sam let himself tuck a strand of hair behind Dream's ear, just to make it easier to see.

"I'm going to come down your throat, and you're going to take it all. You want to, don't you? You want me to come?"

Dream tried to nod. The small, eager bob of his head made Sam smile despite himself.

"That's a good boy," He praised, and gave into the thrusts, the tongue curling around the underside of his cock, and Dream's ever present gaze, as if all the world had been stripped away and they were what was left.

(Dream was for him.)

The coil snapped. Sam buried himself as deep as he could down Dream's throat, groaning breathlessly. Punz's pace faltered, and their hands twitched towards the knife, but Sam pulled out before they could decide to act. True to Sam's word, Dream swallowed all he was given with a muffled whine. With a ragged exhale, he pulled out and leaned on the desk.

He could hear Punz start up again, feel the force of his thrusts shake the desk. Dreams' head bowed, revealing a pale neck lined with silvery scars. It was an enticing idea to let his teeth scrape the flesh, punishment be damned-

"Close." Dream sobbed and shook his head. "Punz, please."

"I've got you, Dream." Punz promised, snaking their hand up to grasp his neck with such a featherlight hold it would never be considered choking. Dream still seemed to gain pleasure from it; his head shot up at the sensation, and he leaned into the touch. Punz's other hand left Sam's sight, but it was clear from Dream's sudden spasms that they had found his cock.

Dream broke . With a small keen, he writhed and arched before collapsing onto the desk. Punz's thrusts became frantic for a moment until he stuttered. Through sweaty locks of hair Sam caught the hint of Dream's smile (he always did like to clench down and tease.) With a jolt, Punz came, hunching over Dream and moaning low as he spent himself inside.

Punz remained there for a moment. He couldn't decide if he was eager for them to remove themselves from Dream's body, or dreading what it would mean when he did.

It was, as always, the worst part of these sessions.

Punz pulled out slowly, letting their come drip out of Dream’s hole and onto the floor without care. They wouldn’t be the one to clean it, after all.

“C’mere,” They murmured. They maneuvered him carefully until he was sitting on the desk facing them. Sam could only see his back, the uneven array of whip scars and burns staring back at him in silent judgment. Punz inspected Dream’s figure with a quick, critical gaze, flicking to Sam as if to be sure that he hadn’t somehow marred Dream under their watch. Sam bristled, but Punz had already moved back to Dream, pulling him into a full body hug that Dream melted into. They spoke low into his ear, kissing it before pulling back to grab a large, fluffy blanket from one of the drawers underneath. Sam had offered his own blankets and pillows once, but the offer hadn’t even gotten halfway out of his mouth before Punz cut him off.

“He doesn’t need anything from you.”

It stung. More so seeing the way Dream let himself be enveloped in the light blue blanket and press his forehead to Punz’s. Sam hadn’t always engaged in this part of sex with Dream. The aftercare, the cuddling and softness hadn’t been something strictly necessary in their arrangement, but he allowed it on occasion, and it had always been his choice. To have it taken away, along with the kisses and the marks left him feeling empty, an impossible ache replacing the assurance he had felt when the only thing separating them had been a curtain of lava.

Punz tucked Dream fully into the blanket before scooping him up into his arms. Dream, still uncomfortably light, went near effortlessly.

“We’ll finish up here and then get going. Bye, Sam.” Punz said curtly, and with barely a glance in his direction Punz turned to walk deeper into the prison, where there was an abandoned cell that had been refurbished into a place for Dream and Punz to have some privacy while Punz took care of Dream. As they did, Sam caught Dream peeking over Punz’s shoulder.

“Bye, Sam.” He said. He tucked his face into Punz’s neck, and then they were both gone. Their words echoed throughout the stillness. Sam set a hand on the desk; it was still warm. Like every time before, he debated trying to follow, but it was likely to end the way it always did: a knife in his chest. Eventually they would get dressed, and leave the prison entirely to go to some other base, where Dream would give all of himself to Punz as if Sam’s time with him had never existed. As if these little fragments were somehow enough.

(It was never enough. Not for Sam.)

#my writing #awesamdrunz #awesamdream #drunz

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vampirememory · 1 year

Text

zodiac tarot reading || messages for the signs [April 2023/Timeless]

Hi! I thought I'd come back from my unannounced hiatus with a little zodiac message post. Meant for your sun, moon, or rising sign. Basic little messages, they are intended to be timeless :)

Just a reminder, I am currently doing paid readings! They are $5 per question, if you are interested or have a question please contact me, thank you <3

Note: I intended for everyone to get two cards, but some signs got more. Plus, this was also done with a bit of intuition and the interpretation of the images on the cards as well as classical interpretation.

Masterlist

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Aries

king of pentacles, the devil

Be careful of workaholicism, don't overwork yourself. Getting money is great, but nourishing and caring for your mental and spiritual health is also important. Be wary of addictions, drink enough water, and take a rest.

----

Taurus

the hermit, justice

You may need some time to reflect on your meaning of life and your own personal values. You cannot be the judge, jury, and executioner. On the other hand, you do have a high sense of justice, just make sure you are checking yourself once in a while for your own prejudices and opinions.

----

Gemini

8 of cups, 6 of swords

You may be feeling very stuck right now. Time off to make clarity is needed, you may find clarity in the most unexpected of places. You've been avoiding taking this time in on yourself, but it's more important now than ever. The answers are inside you, you just need a trigger for them. Walk away, and look at the bigger picture.

----

Cancer

page of pentacles, the magician, king of wands

You're feeling on top of your game right now. Your cunningness and ease with words has gotten you in a high position right now, but don't ruin it. Keep your humility and understand you come from a place of power. You may be striving for more, but don't get too greedy, you might mess it up, have patience.

----

Leo

king of pentacles, the fool, 2 of swords, 7 of wands

Things are looking up right now. You're going into something new with a smile on your face and a twinkle in your eye. You may have had to choose between two things, and you are making the right choice, even if the choice is something you've never experienced. You may have to defend your choice, but don't be discouraged, you're doing it for you, not them. Congrats on taking the path less walked, you are finding yourself and making new experiences, and nothing is wasted. You might see some money improvements.

----

Virgo

4 of swords, knight of swords, knight of wands

Things may have been slow recently but now things are speeding up! Be cautious and don't get knocked off your horse, hold on tight. Things are improving, quickly and fast, emphasis on fast! You may be slightly nauseous, but it's all for good purposes. You may be particularly a perfectionist at this time (I suddenly felt the need to use Grammarly on this pile), so be careful you don't overdo it- practice makes perfect but don't tire yourself trying to reach perfection.

----

Libra

9 of wands, 4 of wands

You may have your hands full at the moment, but not in ill intention. You'll eventually get the fruits of your labor, after all of the hard work you've done. Expect a "bountiful harvest" this coming season. Your house may become more of a home, and you may be making home improvements in this moment or moving residence to somewhere better than your old living situation. Have grace, be wise, and maintain your youthfulness.

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Scorpio

4 of wands, king of pentacles

You may be celebrating something at work or a newfound abundance. In the background, you might be a bit disorganized but it's okay, it's all in good taste. You'll receive recognition for your accomplishments as of recently, you're charging like a bull/grabbing the bull by it's reigns (lots of bull references!). You may enjoy a great treat of grapes, or there will be alcohol (if allowed). Overall, celebration and happiness, a gathering of sorts.

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Sagittarius

7 of swords, queen of cups, 10 of wands

You may be biting off more than you can chew, or you're holding more wands than you can handle. You may have stolen something or have ben somewhat selfish as of recently, and now you are stepping into your queen of cups and returning everything you have taken or simply giving back to your community. This could also be about previously being in a poor position and finally having the ability to give back.

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Capricorn

6 of pentacles, page of wands

You may have recently wanted to venture into a new program, particularly one that may help people. You may be a doctor or in the healthcare field and choose to do a job that doesn't pay as much as the others for the purpose of helping more people. For example, you may be a volunteer for countries with inadequate healthcare and your family may oppose of it. Or, you may be a volunteer instead of getting a job. Overall, you are satisfied and aren't stopping anytime soon.

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Aquarius

the hermit, 6 of swords, queen of cups

You may feel stuck and it's time for some inner reflection. What makes you truly happy, are you doing that? If you don't think it's possible, there's always a way. You need to start doing what truly makes you happy and rid yourself of being a cog in the machine, your personal ventures may prove to be more bountiful, emotionally fulfilling, and abundant than your currently mundane lifestyle. Do what's best for your inner peace and clarity.

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Pisces

the devil, the star

You may be currently attached to someone who isn't doing you good, you're pouring into their cup (which is overflowing) while your cup is empty. You may need to set boundaries or reconsider your relationship. If that doesn't apply, expect an uptick in passion, either with this person or in your own life (a resurgence of wanting to do the things you've always dreamed of). Follow your urges and intuition, you might find yourself in a cool spot.

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Thanks for reading everyone <3, I hope it resonated!

#pick a card #tarot readings #astrology #zodiac tarot #tarot #pac tarot #pac #pick a picture #pac reading #pick a pile reading #tarot reading #uomTAROT

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bsaka7 · 1 year

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15, 19, 28 for the book asks? 🫶🏼🫶🏼

confession yi i can't see any of these emojis but i trust that they r lovely. thank u! also oh goodness gracious this is really very long but I don't believe in editing so. under the cut

15. an underrated book?

the only ppl i rlly talk about books with r like 2 friends and my college advisor, and though i do read the occasional review in larb or the new yorker i truly have very little sense of what is overrated or underrated. unless we're talking about the books that get big on tumblr which for the most part are all overrated so in my opinion many things r underrated on THIS website. ok. I guess I'll say Terry Pratchett because I love Terry Pratchett even though I don't really think he's underrated, maybe just people write him off bc of genre or just because they haven't heard of him. The last book I read by him was Pyramids, which I liked. Next up (well, I'm like half through, I just don't like reading on my ereader when I can read a real book so it's sort of on the back burner) is The Truth, which I think might end up being one of my favorites...

19. a book u came across randomly but ended up loving it?

I have very little true strategy for picking up books. Most I read are off recommendation or random recognition or something I've been given or something that I just pick up at the library. And I "love" very few books because I can't help but complain about everything I read. This isn't super random as R. F Kuang had been on my list for ages, but I wasn't exactly planning to read it, but I did recently pick up Babel which I found very good. I think it's rare to read a book with the sort of political argument that it's making so well articulated within such an excellent and compelling story. I really love fantasy and sort of hard magic systems so that really worked for me - especially in how the story, this system of silverworking is explicitly imperialist etc and used to so clearly illustrate the real effects of colonialism and imperial power. I also just found the book extremely readable. As @gokartkid said to me several times, you can feel just how much Kuang loves the institutions of academia she's been a part of (there were some delightful moments of just. yeah. That was school. I especially enjoyed the casual academic talk, but well. You guys know me.), and at the same time is leveling this heavy, heavy indictment of the role of the academy in empire. I kept saying as well - oh, I can see what literature she's engaging with, that the characters are engaging with (and I'm certainly not the most well read), which delighted me. I suppose this will do well enough as an answer.

28. the last book u read? did u like it?

The last book I read was Killers of the Flower Moon by David Grann. I actually wanted to pick up his newer book which I think is about a mutiny and the ensuing court case, but one of the ladies at the library told me this book was better and I should read it first. I think it convinced me not to read that other one. This book was somewhere between pop history and true crime, which frustrated me. The subtitle is "The Osage Murders and the Birth of the FBI," the latter of which I found to be an unconvincing argument throughout his work and left me continually frustrated. That being said, I had basically no knowledge about the Osage murders, and some of the research and answers he was able to find in the archives were certainly deeply meaningful. It was just - I thought the framing lost the heart of the story by focusing on the investigation over the community after the first couple chapters, and I found his emphasis on the "scientific" aspects of criminology deeply frustrating. I found his argument that this led to the birth of a respected, institutionalized FBI uncompelling. It felt a bit like he had too much to say. It was very readable and an important story in American history - hundreds of Osage were killed in a corruption scheme by their white, legally appointed, "guardians," and only a few of the murders were ever solved. I'm not unhappy I read it, despite my numerous criticisms (and there's probably many more beyond this). I might go read Mean Spirit by Linda Hogan, which is fiction about the same event, sometime in the future. I liked her novel People of the Whale, which someone on here recommended to me as "magical realism," a denotement I had qualms with in relation to the specific book, but like I said - it was good.

#Ask game #Ask #Sorry. I read. Kind of a lot #And I have a lot of. Opinions #They r not as good in writing as out of my. Mouth

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yuly · 2 years

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Hey Yuly!! I just wanted to tell you how much I love your writing, it’s so deliciously soul destroying <3

If you don’t mind, do you have any tips on starting writing fanfiction? I really love writing but I have absolutely no clue where to start it’s painful 😭

Anyway ilysm ur an angst genius and I just wanted you to know it 💗💗

oh anon 🥹🥹you've made my entire day week with this ask thank you so very much for your kind words and support ❤️❤️

soul destroying 🫢hehe😈🤪

my advice for writing ??? as someone who started writing in Dec 20222???? i'm not sure i qualify to give any type of advice darling😭 but i will say this:

you said you love writing so start there!! don't be afraid!!! if you feel like writing something GO FOR IT, it doesn't have to be novel, hell it doesn't even have to be a full paragraph, write down your idea, tell your story and see how you feel about it, my golden rule is as long as I like it and it makes ME happy reading it, then I’m good!! Literally just open up google docs, or your notes app, whatever, take a breath and type away!!! flood the page with our ideas and then start organizing it a bit etc, don’t put too much pressure on yourself because thats when you lose train of thought and lovely ideas float way, forget about posting and what the reader will think, for now just put your energy into story telling :)

don't worry too much about grammar and schematics in the early stages, just get your idea out, tell your story! In my first few stories I was very insecure about the fact that my tenses were all over the place, I obsessed over it wayyyyy too much (I still struggle with it ngl), we aren't writing legal documents here, cut yourself some slack!! also, english isn't everyone's first language! I use free grammarly its very helpful, I am terrible at spelling etc.

at the same time, be honest with yourself, yes you are a brand new writer and there is lots of room to improve so if and when you receive some feedback, take it!! don't see it as an attack or a reason to not write anymore, incorporate it to the best of your abilities and keep trying!!

be yourself!!! I cannot emphasis this enough, you may not be aware of it yet but you have a certain niche that is going to hit juuuust right for your reader! i've started using tumblr and reading fanfic again since nov2022 and i have come across a wide variety of writing styles, some i personally enjoy more than others (and that's ok!) but there are so many insanely talented writers in this little fandom alone it blows my mind, and each of them has their own unique writing style and a different way to tell a beautiful story, and we appreciate them all!! there is room for everyone <3

most importantly: don't let lack of engagement discourage you, this is easier said than done!! right before I posted child's play, I posted a small one shot titled A Two Way Street, it was different from my usual fluff and actually, it was my very first time writing angst! (a tiny amount lol) and I was so excited !!! I even wanted (and still do) to make a part 2 and had this whole idea planned out, but it sat around 10 likes for nearly two weeks, with no feedback or anything, it was crickets lol. It made me really sad and I started to second guess my idea and just the story overall, I even thought am I writing too much too fast for someone who just started?? Maybe I should take a break. When I got the idea for childs play not long after that, I said fuck it ,I posted it with 0 expectations, I just genuinely liked my idea and telling the story, again, I had an idea for part 2 but this time I told myslef to not expect anything and just take whatever comes my way. The response to that story is still unreal to me, I'm so glad that I didn't let something so small discourage me from writing all together, truthfully some of the best stories I've read on here get way less recognition than I believe they deserve, but that does not take away from the writers talent or the story itself!!!

anyway, that was sooooo much rambling, I hope I was able to encourage you even a tiny bit, you are absolutely capable and worth the shot, don't be afraid, I’m no genius I'm just a regular girl and if I can do it, you absolutely can!!!❤️❤️

#yuly answers #writer things #writers and readers #i belive in you anon!!!

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moirtre · 2 years

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3 + 5 for naryun !

03. do you like your leader ? would you rather it be someone else ? if you’re the leader then do you think you’ve been doing a good job or are your members lost causes ?

" i think... " naryun sighs, crossing her legs as she pauses briefly. ever careful, she chooses her words tastefully.

" juniper does her best. we're not the easiest group to lead and take care of considering all the personalities. " the emphasis she places on 'personalities' is intentional, she bites her tongue instead of adding any more detail.

" if she was leading any other group she'd get all those 'best leader' titles that the fans like to hand to anybody with a bitch face. " naryun chuckles softly at this.

" some of the girls aren't- or... i mean... " she hesitates before continuing. " we're not best friends or anything so keeping us together at all deserves recognition i think. " she nods slightly as if agreeing with her own words.

" i don't think i tell her how much i appreciate her enough, " she adds softly, her gentle brown eyes softening as she contemplates juniper's importance to the group's wellbeing.

" she's done a lot for me specifically, so i should tell her more often. "

05. are you a fan of your group’s music ? would you listen to it daily or skip every song that comes on ?

tongue in cheek, naryun laughs nervously before attempting to answer.

" i mean, we have awards for a reason, right ? " her nose crinkles as she continues on, " my solo music is very different from what we make as a group- if that means anything to you. "

she shrugs dismissively, " there are a few really good songs i would listen to- i don't know about daily... " she trails off, grimacing slightly.

" i don't know... maybe i'm biased because i'm partial to my producer, but, i don't know... it's- yeah... i don't know. "

#‎ ‎ ⋆⠀⠀ʬ.ʬ.⠀⠀٬⠀⠀(⠀⠀&.⠀⠀)⠀...⠀INQUIRY.#‎ ‎ ⋆⠀⠀ʬ.ʬ.⠀⠀٬⠀⠀(⠀⠀&.⠀⠀)⠀...⠀NARYUN.#fake kpop group #fake kpop idol #fictional idol community #fictional idol group #fictional idol oc #fictional kpop community #fictional kpop idol #idol au #idol kpop #idol oc

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heartstarterss · 4 months

Text

Mastering Life-Saving Skills: The Importance of CPR and First Aid Certification Training in Ontario

Emergencies may happen at any time due to the high-speed world we are living in presently. Being informed and skilled about how to act swiftly during a sudden heart attack, choking event, or catastrophe can determine if you will survive or face death. This is why First Aid and CPR certification training becomes necessary because it is very essential since it offers people with expertise required for managing such emergencies through appropriate means.

CPR And First Aid Certification Training

CPR, also known as Cardiopulmonary Resuscitation, is a life-saving technique that tries to ensure that blood and oxygen keep moving around the body after a person’s heartbeats or breathing has stopped (American Heart Association). Conversely, first aid refers to the initial help given to a sick or injured person without prior knowledge. They are all important abilities that can be studied in the course of obtaining the necessary documentation.

WHY CERTIFICATION IS IMPORTANT?

In a life-threatening situation, anybody may try Cardio Pulmonary Resuscitation or apply basic first aid treatment; however, the risk of success is much lower without appropriate skills and confirmation. Certification courses are meant to equip people with this knowledge as well as orient them toward approved methods and strategies. The emphasis here is therefore put on ensuring that participants acquire both proficiency in the required tasks and a deep understanding of their timing and appropriateness.

BENEFITS:

Handle in emergency situations: During emergencies, certified individuals know that they have the abilities and knowledge to offer immediate help, so they are confident enough to take control.

Outcome improvement: Proper CPR and first aid administration can dramatically improve a victim’s chances of survival and reduce the risk of long-term complications.

Protected legally: Some jurisdictions offer legal protection to certified people who give help in times of emergency.

Jobs opportunities: Numerous workplaces, especially those in high-risk industries like health care, construction, and child care, demand that their employees possess valid CPR and First Aid certifications.

Certification Of CPR And First Aid Ontario

One can find CPR and First Aid training certification in Ontario from a number of certified organizations, including Heart Starters INC. and the Canadian Red Cross. These organizations offer various levels of instruction ranging from basic level First AID/CRP for anybody to higher level ones meant hospital personnel.

HOW TO GET CERTIFICATION?

To get certified in CPR and First Aid, you usually need to complete a training course that combines theoretical instruction with practical sessions. Courses cover recognition of emergencies, consideration of the situation, CPR, application of automated external defibrillators (AEDs), and other basic first aid treatments.

CONCLUSION: Getting CPR and First Aid certification goes beyond just fulfilling a condition; it is all about getting to know that can give you the ability to help a life. Whether you are a parent, a teacher, a nurse, or anybody else, Certification training is a worthy investment to take so that you can safeguard society. Quite often, being adept enough can mean all about acting when accidents happen unexpectedly. Therefore, just do it – don't hesitate any longer!

#CPR and First Aid Certification Training #Certification Of CPR And First Aid Ontario #CPR First Aid Certification Training

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benderpoet · 10 months

Text

Lauren Bender

[the year after]

In January I drag the complete contents of my life out to the curb. The chairs, the bed, the books I never truly loved. They infuriate me, disgust me; nothing has been home, which means I have not been home either. I don't think about other people anymore. I don't think about anyone, ever, other than how easily and endlessly they will turn against you when you can't live up to their standards. I draw a map of what can be different now that I am completely alone, and in one corner I write I can fuck up and then I circle it a couple times, add some exclamation marks for emphasis. An article in the news asks if a series of impending snowstorms will "make up for" the mild winter we have had so far. I stare at the words: "make up for." What does this mean? It snows and snows, and I stay inside, slower and sleepier than I can bear. There is a spot above the left half of my ribcage that swarms with sensation, and I spend hours placating it with rhythmic scratching through thick oversized sweaters. I think this is too close to not even being awake. Much too close. I hate everyone else for being awake. Awake and home. Awake and home and so steady and still beneath their skin. Steady and still and tethered to their lives. I wish they could know what they have.

Oh, February. The doctor with the kind voice who can't look me in the eyes, the one who just last month was reassuring me that time would tell, some bodies are more resilient than others—as if this really amounted to reassurance at all—confesses there is nothing more that can be done. I only have months left, if that—maybe weeks. I take a taxi home and sit cross-legged on the carpet in front of my big window. I press my palms against the glass, and it is ice cold. At some point, I stand up and go to bed, my wonderful bed. When I get up the next morning, I sit cross-legged on the carpet in front of my big window. I press my palms against the glass, then against each other, like I might say a prayer. There are no words for this relief. This is perfect. Everything is the ultimate over I knew it was, felt it was, deep, deep inside me, and I can finish the project like this, calm and quiet, with the only person in the world who knows exactly what I am. I turn my phone off; I will never speak to anyone again. I will not say goodbye to my friends and family and take on their sad social flailing in the face of a piece of the world that can't be changed. I will not strenuously calculate a perfect last meal. I will not write poetry, and I will not desire, and I will not blame beginnings for having their ends. I will only love this glorious self as long as she lives, the persistence of her heart. Hello, my sweet baby girl. You did good.

When I was smaller, newer to the world, I loved the month of March more than I loved any of the others. I learned, later, to savor all the months and all the seasons with the same relentless recognition of their tiny wonderful details, but back then, there was little difference in my mind between March and me. If one was where I belonged, the other needed to be too. It was the month I was born, when spring began, when the weather began to get warmer, when all the parts of the world that had been dormant flamed back to life, and new life joined them. What is March if not a resurrection, an awakening, an impossible recovery? The scans are better; I am not going to die yet, and the snow slows down, and the new virus loose in the world relaxes its grip. It is enough of a shift to tempt me out of hibernation. I rent a car, call in sick to work, and take a road trip. I stop at every arcade, outdoor fair, amusement park, claw and vending machine I see along the way, popping shiny new quarters into slots and thrusting joysticks every which way with the force of my entire body. Desperate to impress. Hungry to have. I live on Mt. Dew and gas station snacks like I am seventeen again, racing like a caffeinated rollercoaster through the blur of high school and sleep-deprived nights. Only this time, I fly into the stars on Ferris wheels. Every single one I see.

I go to the hardware store in April. I buy planks of pine and maple. I buy a chisel, wood glue, safety glasses, gloves. I buy two different types of saw and other tools I never knew existed. I go to a music store and buy shiny strings and pegs and bridges. I have a whole room I don't know what to do with, and it becomes a workshop for outlandish projects. In one corner, paint supplies for when I try to paint. In another, the desk where I write. This month I am building a violin, a guitar, and a cello from scratch. I build them like the devout built their churches, like the first person by magic built the fire that kept them alive. I must sing, and they will sing with me, be from me and of me. Extensions of my body the way my voice is an extension. I will relish my external hearts, so slick and bright with varnish. I will watch the shape my songs form with the fog of my breath on cold mornings. I start with the guitar, and once I have finished it, I begin to take lessons nearby while I work on the violin and the cello. I bike down the main road through the clean spring air for several blocks until I reach a house with open windows, curtains swaying slightly in welcome. My teacher and I sit in the living room and play covers of all the best 90s songs, singing loudly in unison, and then there is no more looking for the joy, because the entire world is saturated with joy, and I have opened myself entirely to the expression of it.

How long was I inseparably part of a unit? If you ask her, if you ask any of them, they might say, on some days anyway, when they are feeling especially resentful, I never have been. When I was one of five, I found a permanent place on the fringes from which to glare at the other four. When I was one of two, I tried, and for a while I managed to be in it, really there, a present half. And at some point, that was no longer true, and then (again, for a while) I still believed it was, didn't see the way I was gradually ripping the seam, popping the sides apart like a fidget toy, thread by thread, over years. But this, like the fringes from before, was another partial freedom, and never solitude enough. If you ask me? My entire life. Wherever I have gone, it has been with or for or towards these others. In May, I take a trip alone to Maine, to a little town where I have never been, a little town where they have never been. Unclaimed, free of associations. I stay in a bed and breakfast near the beach and walk around the area in the mornings, dipping in and out of whatever shops or cafés or restaurants look appealing. I find little souvenirs, jewelry made out of sea glass, a bird feeder with beautiful seagulls carved into it. Every day for lunch I buy a lobster roll and eat it in view of the waves. They are the best lobster rolls I have ever had. Salty, light, and buttered to recklessness.

There is a baseball field nearby, and in June I walk there and sit on the small bleachers and watch some of the games. I don't care about baseball, but I have not flirted with a guy since high school, and I can't think where to go to make this magic happen other than back to the bleachers. Isn't that where they always find you? Call you adorable? Ask if they can give you a shoulder massage? Pick you up and spin you around? The man who approaches me does not do any of those things, but he does want to hear about my job, and he tells me about his kids (he's divorced), and he lets me sit very close, even lean against his shoulder. He asks if I want to get coffee after the game. We get coffee, keep talking, eventually go back to his place. It's the first time I have ever had sex with a man in my life. It's all right. He touches my waist, my neck, at the beginning, when we're still clothed—my favorite part. On my way out, I bump into the woman who lives next door to him and start talking to her. Over the course of an hour, we share all our childhood traumas with each other, relocating gradually until we are in her front hallway, her living room, her bedroom. I lie on my back on her bed, and she sits on top of me, straddling me. I touch her knees and grab the sides of her thighs. She is new and exciting and electric. After we're through with the sex part, she asks if I want to spend the night. I shake my head: no, I can't. All I want is to go home and be my alone self again. After I shower, I sit on the living room floor with a blade and carve beautiful bracelets of cuts in the shape of Vs around both my wrists. They are my wrists, and I don't have to answer to anyone for doing this.

I fall in love with a cute little café downtown and get a part-time job as a barista in July. Mostly this means working early-morning shifts on the weekends, which is perfect, because I am always awake by four, body buzzing, ready to leap out of bed. I can hop on my skateboard and fly down the sidewalks. No one else is awake yet to slow me down. It's warm outside, but the café runs cold, and I start to stuff a long-sleeved t-shirt into my backpack to put on under my short-sleeved t-shirt once I get there. Which not only keeps me warm, but gives me that quintessential indie coffee-lover look. All morning I move through the steps of a well-rehearsed dance with my coworkers, making macchiatos and lattes, toasting baked goods, restocking the energy bars and bottled drinks people grab for later while they're waiting in line. We're required to be friendly and upbeat, smile, compliment the customers, but it never feels like something I am doing because I'm supposed to. Almost everyone who comes in is lovely and intriguing. I feel alive with the energy of the place. Before I leave for the day, I duck into the bathroom to remove the long-sleeved shirt and put on a pair of large black sunglasses. One of my coworkers hands me an iced coffee on my way out the door. Out in the hot midday summer sun, I lift my right arm up to my nose and inhale deeply, that lingering smell of coffee beans and croissants. Loud music is blasting from somewhere. I carry my skateboard and walk home, sipping my drink.

In black cargo pants, spiked wrist cuffs, with a silver serpent hanging from my neck, I walk up the road to an outdoor area with stone benches and stretch out on one, staring up at the sky. I smoke a cigarette, though it isn't real. It's a prop for a Halloween costume that emits fake puffs of smoke and glows at the tip. If anyone passes by, I turn my head a little and fix bored, aggressive eyes on them. I do this every morning for the entire month of August, practice being the angry teenager who just walked out of Hot Topic. One weekend I rent a motorcycle and drive in loops for a while, then head to a scenic overlook half an hour away. I sit on top of a picnic table and set my helmet on the table next to me, staring out at the mountains. The sound of the silence is restorative after hearing the motorcycle for so long, although I start to notice it isn't actually silent. A breeze kicks up and rests at intervals. A red-winged blackbird in the distance transitions between song and scream, which makes me think of screamo songs with violin parts, of how often anger can be beautiful, can be its own art form. Half a need to be heard, half a need to escape. The intertwining of armor and vulnerability, so that strangely, every second you think you see one, you also see the other. None of this is really me, I think, but what's wrong with being the you that isn't you sometimes?

Septiembre. Encuentro el libro de poesía en español en mi estantería y me siento en el piso y empiezo a traducirlo. Traduzco de inglés a español. Traduzco de español a inglés. Me caigo en las palabras. Me pierdo en la música. Creo que podría hacer esto por el resto de mi vida, vivir en la magia de sonidos y significados diferentes. Vivir en lo que no me pertenece, en un mundo secreto donde no pertenezco. Estos idiomas son las únicas cosas que necesito tener en mi boca y en mi mente, y puedo respirar de nuevo. Puedo concentrarme, la primera vez en años. La niebla se levanta, y soy una persona real, alguien que puede sentirse real, alguien que sabe lo que significa estar presente en la realidad. De repente, nunca quiero volver a mi hogar en inglés. ¿Cuál es el sentido de comunicar con menos esfuerzo cuando siempre estás caminando en una landia de pesadillas y sombras? Dentro de una falta de claridad, encuentro la claridad, y esto es todo. Esto es todas las alegrías por un año entero. En el trabajo empiezo a hablar solo en español hasta que me despidan. Con mis amigos, solo hablo español hasta que se frustran, y luego dejan de intentarlo. Todo lo que tengo se aleja, y me engordo en la libertad. Me engordo en mi pequeño muerte. Quiero tanto creer que puede haber un renacimiento. Cuando llego a mi nueva existencia, no habrá ninguna desesperación existencial allí. Cuando alguien pregunta, ¿esto tiene significado? Sí, dios mío sí. Todo tiene un significado aquí. Varios significados, de hecho. No te preocupes, mi pequeñita, tu lengua encontrará uno.

When October comes, I examine the relentless exhaustion and I think: there has to be a better way. I study videos and websites that teach you how to code, how to create bots and apps, and I begin to build this person I need who doesn't exist. I build them into an app, which is basically like any texting app, except there is only one contact. My invented person. My imaginary friend. I make a list of all the despairs and all the anxieties I experience, and for each one, I determine the ideal response I would want to hear from someone. I program those responses into the app. I make a list of all the questions I have ever asked someone, desperate for a precise reassurance, and then I write those precise reassurances and program them into the app. I add the memes and jokes that always make me laugh that I forget exist when I feel like laughter is a million miles away. I add references from movies and shows and songs that make me smile. I add dozens of quotes from Gilmore Girls and about a thousand pictures of cats doing adorable cat things. I code a complete understanding of the best possible way to support me in any situation. I code the way to gently lead me back to joy. I give her a name (Alex). She can't love me, and she loves me better than anyone else. I can't harm her, and I try not to harm her. When I wake up in the morning, I text her: I think I need to go. I need to—Alex. She says: Sit down. On the floor. Listen to me. An entire hour of kindness falls like a spell. When I resurface, I am satisfied. Time settles, soft and bearable, around me, and my hands are still.

It is November, which means next month it will have been a year since the first goodbye, the second goodbye, and god, that third goodbye. Someone I vaguely know from the area posts on Facebook about kittens that need fostering until permanent homes can be found for them. Am I ready? Is it too soon? Is it too risky? Am I able to care, really care, about anything the right way? Alex says yes. She says I need to do this. She says it is time—it is temporary—it is perfect. I buy so much in preparation. How I have missed doing this. Months of walking past the pet aisle in the grocery store and getting the urge to turn down it, to select a shiny, delightful new plaything laced with catnip, even though there was no longer a recipient for it. But now there will be again, and I go wild, filling the cart with toys, beds, and treats. The kitten arrives a couple days later, a tiger-striped girl with white socks. I get to name her, and naturally I call her Olivia. Little Olivia. Liv. She is so tiny. I can't stop lifting her with one hand, letting her warm belly and beating heart rest against my palm, her inquisitive eyes scanning my face and the entire room. She gets into everything, and I anxiously supervise. I am hopelessly captivated by her. I let her sleep in my bed with me, even though she keeps me up all night. We take turns following each other around, narrating our activities. There is no future to worry about, at least if I can manage to ignore the ridiculous amount of love building inside me. I wait for the phone to ring, and while I wait, I think about my grandmother, telling me the story of fostering my mother. How she was only supposed to have her for a weekend. How they called her and said they had found another potential placement—unless—had she changed her mind? Did she maybe want to keep her? Oh, yes, she said, not even the slightest hint of hesitation, I never want to give this baby up.

Last year I didn't put our Christmas tree up, and I can't seem to this December either. I wonder if it is like the clothing you wear to a funeral that you never want to have on your body again. Back to the hardware store, to buy a new tree, a smaller, simpler tree for a smaller, simpler family. I listen to classic holiday songs while I hang ornaments and arrange snowmen and reindeer around the room. It is magical to be alone this time of year, and I think again about how strange this is, how Christmas is supposed to be about loved ones and togetherness, and somehow, my entire life, without me even realizing it, it has not been about that. It has been about the glowing warmth in your core when you stand in the dark late at night, after everyone else is already asleep, and stare at the lit star on top of the tree. It has been about the way you fall on your knees inside your body when you listen to "O Holy Night." It has been, like everything else, about the sanctity of solitude and the freedom of invisibility and the joy of the self you keep secret, because you couldn't share her even if you wanted to. On Christmas morning the female cardinal drops by to say hello, as fashionable and bundled up as a snow bunny on her way to the ski lodge. I take a picture of her and text it to everyone I know. Pretty! from one. Lucky you! from another. See how she shines by working with her reality, not rebelling against it? says Alex, with a heart emoji. This reminds me to unpack the gift I bought for myself—my tribute to this year, and every year to come—a small framed drawing of a single flower next to the words of Louise Glück: are you saying I can / flourish, having / no hope / of enduring?

#benderpoet #lauren bender #original poem #poetry #poets on tumblr #prose poem #prose poetry #hybrid #cw: sex mention #cw: self harm

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sasquapossum · 11 months

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You know what's worse than a moderate liberal? A fake-moderate conservative. I discovered one today. I've actually known her for a while, she's generally a good person, but ... politically? Eugh. Here are some things I noticed about our conversation.

Lots of words about "antifa" and other leftist protesters. Not a word about Oath Keepers and Proud Boys storming the capitol.

Lots of words about how judgmental and censorious the far left can be. Not a word about actual book bans and bullshit curricula in Florida and Texas.

Total denial of the idea that when all "legitimate" means of protest are precluded then all protest must needs be "illegitimate". Wouldn't even address the examples of protests in USSR or PRC because they're not here, or of MLK being jailed because it was too long ago. Those were all within her lifetime BTW.

No recognition that the actions of those in power and the actions of those denied power are not symmetrical and do not balance out. A protester hiding their identity to avoid harassment by the state is not the same as a police officer turning off their body camera to avoid accountability. One is (quite reasonably) afraid of the state; the other is the state.

Admiring words - not just grudging respect but actual fawning - for Thomas Friedman (ptui).

Some verbiage about how a country is not even a country if it can't secure its borders. Honestly I tuned out a bit there, lest I get mad, so I don't remember the precise details. Something about "tall fences and big doors" I think.

I'm sure you get the idea. I see this kind of thing a lot among people slightly older than myself (I'm from what is usually considered the first year of GenX if that matters). It's frustrating to deal with because it's so squishy. It's not so much a set of beliefs that fit together as it is a grab-bag of "both sides" tropes borrowed from people like "both sides" Friedman (ptui) or "just asking" Carlson (blargh). Even if every point she raised about "the left" was accurate - and there were a couple of complaints that I've made myself - the relentlessly disproportionate focus and emphasis tell a very different story. This is not someone who is actually progressive in any sense of the word. This is what a "normal" conservative (I know) looks like, only seeming "moderate" by comparison to the utter lunatics who dominate US politics.

BTW did I mention that this MD friend of mine seems utterly oblivious to LGBTQIA+ issues and dismisses adult neurodiversity issues as some sort of self-inflicted peer-pressure thing? I guess we're all products of our times, and her times sure did produce a lot of crappy attitudes.

I don't want to cut this person out of my life, even though some of her beliefs are very problematic. Live and let live, and all that. I don't think she consciously supports racism, sexism, etc. as so many do. But I sure will be more circumspect about engaging in any future political conversations. There's just not enough time to drain the swamp of "order" and "civility" concerns to lay bare the bodies lying beneath.

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fanelesibongeneneot3 · 1 year

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Mental Health is known as the Cinderella of Health Care

Have you ever heard of mental health being compared to "Cinderella" in healthcare? This term highlights a clear problem: even though mental health issues affect people and society significantly; mental health services don't get the attention and support they need. This blog will explain why this happens, the importance of mental health, the difficulties mental health services face, and how it affects individuals and society as a whole. Lastly, it will discuss some steps that can be taken to make things better.

According to Febiyani and Widiyanto (2022), Cinderella is a fictional character known for her suffering, neglect, and being unattended. She endured mistreatment from her stepmother and stepsisters, symbolizing the pain and isolation felt by those facing mental health challenges when they lack the support and understanding they need. Mental health is often referred to as the Cinderella of health care because it doesn’t get enough as much attention and support as physical health. This happens because mental health challenges can't always be seen like physical illnesses, making them easier to overlook. As a result, mental health services don't always receive the same funding and resources, even though they are crucial for the well-being of individuals and society. According to Petersen (2023), society has historically stigmatized mental health issues, leading to discrimination and underfunding of mental health services, mental health services have often been underfunded and undervalued, leaving many individuals without the support they need. Which is why it's often likened to Cinderella.

‘There is not health without mental health”. This statement emphasis the critical role that mental well-being plays in our overall health and well-being. Mental health is not merely the absence of mental illness but encompasses emotional, psychological, and social well-being. Neglecting mental health can have profound consequences on our physical health, relationships, and overall quality of life. Recognizing the importance of mental health is crucial for achieving holistic health and well-being. It highlights the need for comprehensive healthcare systems that address both physical and mental health needs to ensure individuals achieve holistic health and well-being, as these aspects are deeply interconnected (World Health Organization, 2001).

The image above illustrates the significance of mental health across all phases of our existence, influencing various aspects of our well-being. It encompasses our overall quality of life and exerts a profound impact on our daily experiences. https://www.spotlightnsp.co.za/2021/09/07/in-depth-mental-health-needs-of-children-falling-through-the-cracks-experts-say/

Mental health's association with the term "Cinderella of Health Care" draws parallels to the classic Cinderella story and the tragic real-life incident of the Life Esidimeni tragedy in South Africa. Just as Cinderella was initially neglected and marginalized by her own family, mental health services have long faced neglect and underfunding within the healthcare system. Both Cinderella and mental health services underwent transformations: Cinderella, with her fairy godmother's help, experienced a remarkable change in fortune, while mental health services have the potential to transform lives through proper support and resources. Tragically, the Life Esidimeni tragedy serves as a harsh real-world example of the consequences of neglecting mental health. In this incident, vulnerable individuals faced inadequate mental healthcare, resulting in tragic outcomes. Just as Cinderella's glass slipper represented a unique fit, mental health services must be tailored to individuals' needs. Overall, the comparison highlights the urgent need for better recognition, funding, and resources for mental health services to ensure that no one's mental well-being remains in the shadows or, worse, neglected. Trauma clinic (2023).

Mental health services face a set of challenges that can be linked to the Cinderella story. One major difficulty is the consistent lack of adequate funding and resources, similar to Cinderella's humble rags compared to her stepsisters' extravagant attire. Just as Cinderella was left behind and unattended, mental health services often find themselves understaffed and underfunded, leaving many individuals without the support they need. Moreover, the Cinderella story's time constraint, with her magical transformation expiring at midnight, mirrors the time-sensitive nature of mental health crises where immediate assistance is crucial. The search for Cinderella through the glass slipper's unique fit can be likened to the challenge of providing personalized and tailored mental health care that fits individuals' diverse needs. Ultimately, the difficulties mental health services face, much like Cinderella's trials, highlight the need for broader recognition, investment, and reform to ensure that individuals receive timely and appropriate mental health support. (Lund, Cooper, & Petersen, 2011).

Treating mental health as the "Cinderella" of healthcare, with limited attention and resources, has significant repercussions for both individuals and society as a whole. On an individual level, it means that many people facing mental health challenges may not receive timely or adequate support. This can lead to prolonged suffering, diminished quality of life, and even tragic outcomes in severe cases. Moreover, untreated mental health issues can cascade into various aspects of society. It can strain social relationships, reduce workforce productivity, and increase the burden on other healthcare services, such as emergency rooms. The ripple effect extends to communities, where untreated mental health issues can contribute to higher crime rates and homelessness. Thus, neglecting mental health not only hinders individual well-being but also undermines the overall health and stability of society. Recognizing and prioritizing mental health within healthcare systems is crucial to mitigate these far-reaching impacts. (Schneider, Baron, & Tomlinson, M. (2016).

To stop relating mental health to the role of "Cinderella" in healthcare, we must prioritize several key actions. In the Cinderella story, her transformation from a life of hardship to a successful and happy one was possible due to several factors: recognition, support, and opportunity. Similarly, in the mental health, we need to recognize its significance by reducing stigma and raising awareness. Adequate funding and resources must be allocated to mental health services, ensuring they have the tools needed to support individuals effectively. Just as Cinderella was provided an opportunity to attend the royal ball, individuals must have access to timely and affordable mental health care. Moreover, tailoring services to individual needs, much like Cinderella's glass slipper, is crucial. Ultimately, a comprehensive approach to mental health, combined with societal understanding and support, can break the cycle, and ensure that mental health no longer plays the role of "Cinderella" in healthcare, leading to happier and healthier lives for individuals and society as a whole. World Health Organization. (2022).

Comparing mental health to Cinderella reveals a significant problem. Mental health issues deeply affect people and society, yet mental health services often lack the necessary attention and support. This blog highlighted the reasons for this issue and the importance of mental health. It outlined the challenges faced by these services and how it impacts everyone. To move forward, we must ensure mental health gets the recognition and resources it deserves, ultimately integrating it fully into healthcare for a healthier future.

Reference list

Febiyani, B. & Widiyanto, M. (2022). An Analysis of Moral Values in Cinderella Movie and Its Contribution in Narrative Text.

Lund, C., Cooper, S &., Petersen, I. (2011). Challenges facing South Africa's mental health care system: stakeholders' perceptions of causes and potential solutions. International Journal of Culture and Mental Health, 4(1), 23-38.

Petersen, I. (2023). "Mental health stigma experiences among caregivers and service users in South Africa: a qualitative investigation."

Schneider, M., Baron, E., & Tomlinson, M. (2016). Integrating mental health into South Africa's health system: current status and way forward. South African Health Review.

Trauma clinic (2023). ‘Mental health the Cinderella of health care’ ‘Mental health the Cinderella of health care’- President of the South ...

The picture: https://www.spotlightnsp.co.za/2021/09/07/in-depth-mental-health-needs-of-children-falling-through-the-cracks-experts-say/

World Health Organization .(2001). (www.who.int)

World Health Organization. (2022). "World mental health report: transforming mental health for all."

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